


all I want is the truth (and another drink)

by thebitterbeast



Category: Primeval
Genre: Gen, I got the couples therapy idea from common law, also unnamed shrink, slash if you squint?, which was fantastic and should not have been cancelled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:14:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebitterbeast/pseuds/thebitterbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes drinks, and counseling, for Stephen and Nick to really talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all I want is the truth (and another drink)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Nick/Stephen - value me; a drabble telling another how they feel about them

Nick had never been a taciturn drunk. He was not one to spill his feelings, not while sober, and not while drunk.

But maybe that was the problem.

He turned the bottle over in his hand, the silence between them weighing heavy on his mind. Stephen coughed slightly, and Nick’s eyes flicked up to his friend’s sheepish face and back down to the bottle in his hands.

The sound of the chair scraping beside them brought them both out of their reveries and identical winces to their faces. Doctor Nichols raised an eyebrow at them both.

"You know," she commented idly, "getting you out of the office was for you two to actually talk."

Nick took a sip in lieu of actually answering. Three weeks they had been visiting the good Doctor (note the sarcasm) on Lester’s orders. A therapist, because he and Stephen had issues they must work out. Hah, Nick thought in response, issues. Lester had no idea what he was talking about. And putting them into couples’ therapy? What had the man been thinking?

"Alright then," she sighed. "You’re sitting in a public place, together, and no one’s thrown a punch." She threw her hands up in defeat and got out of her chair. "I suppose I shall count that as a win," she continued as she slipped on her coat. "Enjoy your alcohol, these two are on me. The next ones are your own," she called over her shoulder as she raised her hand in farewell.

The two men eyed each other warily, in silence. Stephen sighed, raising a hand to rub at his forehead. “Look, you have complete right to be mad,” he began. “But the silent treatment? Really, Nick? What are we, children?”

Nick leaned back in his seat and raised his hands. “You slept with my wife.”

Stephen grimaced. “Yeah,” he muttered, putting his bottle down and rubbing at his face again.

"You slept with my wife," Nick repeated, "and lied to me about it for 8 years." He shook his head. "I think I’m more pissed about that, to be honest."

The tracker’s blue eyes showed confusion. “Are you - are you serious?” he asked in disbelief. “That’s why you’ve been mad?”

"Yes!" Nick retorted loudly. "You’re me best mate, and you up and lied straight to my face for eight bloody years!" He glared at the younger man. "Eight bloody years," he repeated, and drained the bottle. "You’re possibly the only mate I have," he admitted frankly. "And my only mate’s a liar, and a cheat, and a -"

"Twat?" Stephen suggested, tilting his bottle in acquiescence. "Arse? Bastard?"

Nick slammed the bottle down on the table and waved his hand at the brunet. “All of that,” he declared with a wry twist of his lips. He sighed heavily. “Why didn’ you just tell me?”

Stephen carefully placed his bottle down as well and considered it, as though it would give him the answers. “I don’t know,” he finally responded. “I suppose, it was because I didn’t want to lose one of the best mates I’ve ever had.” A sardonic smile played at his lips as he asked, “D’you know not many people want to talk about dinosaurs? It’s bloody disappointing.”

The professor snorted and swiped Stephen’s bottle, ignoring his indignant cry. Taking a swig, he chortled, “Why’d’you think you’re me best mate?”

"We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?" Stephen shook his head and chuckled.

Nick nodded, and smirked. “I think Doctor Nichols’ll be proud o’ us. We talked.”

"And no one threw a punch," Stephen tried to grab for the bottle, and Nick avoided him by taking another swig, hard pressed not to laugh.

"Go us," he finally managed. Stephen kicked at his leg, and Nick rolled his eyes, passing the bottle back.

"Go us," he repeated, tilting the bottle in a cheers.

They settled back into comfortable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> asked on tumblr by a friend with the added note of - because they are both very, very bad at feelings and it will be amusing.


End file.
